After cleaning his wound and bandaging it, Amon returned to the teleportation platform and sat down. He thought it is safer to retreat furthest back to analyze the Source he received from the eight Source construct corpses and the two tall ones he named jailers.
"Let's see...It should be easy to split them up." Concentrating on his Profound Ethereal Veins, he commanded his heart to split his cultivated Source from the ones that he acquired unwillingly.
The Heart of Entropy effortlessly separated the Source energy based on their individual origins and pulled them to its void. Ten small miniature orbs of Source floated in the endless void for Amon to examine. The two gained from the jailers appeared a bit bigger but not by much from the ones obtained from the grayish Source corpses.
On first inspection, Amon managed to grade them. They were equivalent to grade one Chipped Source crystals or gems. The constructs themselves when Amon inspected them with his Source were equal to level one True Realm practitioners' cultivation wise but lacked any Profound Ethereal Arts to leverage it.
Amon decided to split one of the Jailers' Source ball up further, into smaller parts. To his surprise, it broke down further as if it meant to be so.
Frowning, Amon was perplexed. "They feel like they did not come from the same person? Like it was collected from ten different individuals and congregated together."
"Tainted Source? But that can't be..."
For Source to be tainted, it must be taken from its owner forcefully after the Nine Mortal Realms. Assimilating tainted Source corrupts the abuser and turns them into a devil gradually.
This is because, after the Nine Mortal Realms, an individual start cultivating their spirit, which will leave a permanent spirit mark on their Source and body. Anything taking forcefully from such an individual will result in corruption, be it directly, or indirectly using a sinister method like rape or even physically pulling an Ether core out of a noble's heart.
Scrutinizing the Source orbs further for any spirit marks, Amon managed to detect that the spirit marks have been forcefully removed using a coarse method unknown to him. Then it looked some of its individual Source parts quality used to be higher, but by mixing it together with lower quality ones, it was reduced all the way down to its lowest possible grade.
"Rotten...I did not know Source could rot, but this is what I think it is. It won't taint the user, but it's akin to drinking piss instead of clean water. Why? For what purpose would a place created to empower others for the sake of vengeance provide them with rotten Source? Gradually it will make them sick and potentially kill them if they don't sit down and refine it over a very long period.
Then there is the matter of removing a spirit mark from high-grade Source. If a method truly exists, then we will have pseudo devils running around in the future hiding among us. Lastly, they mixed them with a low-grade Source to bring their grade down...why bother? Inefficient and wasteful.
I need to inspect the soul that houses this clumped Source inside the Source monsters' constructs. It disperses the moment they are destroyed, but I should be able to lock it down before I land a killing blow."
Amon stood up, walking forward, sword in hand, and ready for another round. He decided to let the Heart of Entropy deal with the rotten Source, refining it should be more natural than pulsing to the Heart of Entropy. Also, he decided that he won't assimilate it even after refining it, he did not want to raise in levels here and blackout.
He passed the metal bar door the two tall jailers emerged from only to find himself in a small empty room with one locked door and a key slot next to it on the wall. He took out the bronze key he acquired earlier and unlocked the door with it. The locking key mechanism swallowed the key after Amon used it.
Taking a step forward, Amon found himself in a replica of the eight jail cells hallway, with light coming from the second jail cell to his left. Amon approached the second cell and found another corpse holding a ball of light. He ignored it and instead went to inspect the other seven jail cells. They were dark and appeared empty, but Amon knew better.
He started banging one of the cell doors bars with his sword hilt, intending to rouse up its occupants hidden back in the dark. Slowly he heard groaning noises and footsteps. Two Source corpse constructs stood before Amon, inside their jail cell, holding rusted weapons in each hand. They tried to reach for Amon, but their locked cell door stood in their way.
Activating his eyes of Entropy, Amon guided his Source to envelop the soul inside the Source construct, hoping it won't instantly disperse when he finishes off the construct. The soul looked like a blazing white small fireball; it concerned Amon further since he knew souls are shapeless, formless, and, most importantly, ethereally invisible. He thought only his heart could make them visible but apparently not.
Through the cell bars, Amon stabbed the corpse in its forehead, instantly destroying it and making it crumble to ash. He could not contain the soul that immediately dispersed. Trying again with a bit more Source, he did the same to the second corpse and failed again.
Walking to the next cell, he repeated his actions, stirring the corpses up then trying to capture their soul before it disperses. By the fourteenth corpse, he finally managed to capture a soul, and he immediately deposited the soul inside his heart to keep it intact.
Quickly analyzing it, he found it to be like the rotten Source he has been gaining so far. It was made from multiple human souls' bits and pieces bunched up together with one major difference. Some of the souls' pieces that made the complete soul white fireball had spirit marks on them. It brought a sense of assurance to Amon that at least whoever created these monstrosities could not remove a soul spirit mark.
Amon decided to keep the patched-up soul and wait until he can turn it into pure soul energy himself, which he might have a use for one day. He was sure with a bit more practice he could keep collecting more of these Souls in active combat from these Source constructs before it disperses.
He went to inspect the metal bar door at the end of the hallway, it was locked, and he could see three tall jailers standing still like they were inanimate objects. Curving his lips in displeasure, Amon had a read on the purpose of the place he was currently at.
Outwardly, it appeared like a testing and refining trial ground, but in reality, its real purpose was to drown competent participants with rotten Source over time, making them think their cultivation level is rising as a natural result of their hard work and achievement here while ignorant of the poison they are ingesting.
"To what end..."
Amon walked back to the cell he ignored that had the corpse holding a white ball of light. He tried to change tactics and see what will happen if he destroyed the corpse before picking up the key. The still corpse crumbled to ashes and dropped a silver key from its hand when Amon stabbed it in the head. The moment Amon picked up the key, the three tall jailers awaken and burst out of their room.
Sighing Amon got ready for another fierce battle with an extra jailer this time around.
***
Vicia's Holy Lands, Sacred Gate Sect.
"Father." Spoke a young man while kneeling in front of his father's desk. The handsome youth is approaching his twenty-fifth winter. He had long, smooth black hair, tied in a ponytail. His face had a sweet charm to it, but his eyes contained nothing but the ruthlessness his father has long beaten in him.
Mo De did not lift his head from his sword, which he was currently cleaning on top of his desk. He motioned for his son, who adorned similar warrior purple robes to approach him.
The young man stood up, walked around his father's desk, and stood next to his father. He moved his arms out of his robes and exposed his upper half.
Without looking at him, Mo De placed a hand on his son's chest, inspecting his Profound Ethereal Veins.
Mo De nodded in satisfaction. "Earth Realm, at this young age, you are indeed my son. Take a seat, Fang."
Mo Fang cupped his fists, bowed towards his father before fixing his robes, and taking a seat in front of his father's desk.
"How are our preparations for the upcoming event?" Asked Mo De.
"It is as you have ordered father, we are essentially organizing our Sacred Gate Sect up for war. Scouting flying vessels have been sent ahead to position themselves across the continent. The moment these portals' locations become known, we will have someone from our sect at each one of them." Answered Mo Fang.
"Good, we don't know what awaits beyond these supposed portals or to where they lead to, nor do we care. We only have to know all of their locations and then make sure no one leaves them without us knowing." Smiled Mo De sinisterly.
"Let others do the hard work while we reap the benefits." Agreed Mo Fang.
"Yes, but we will still have to join these foolish games ourselves when the portals open. We will compete with the rest of our continent but with one other extra goal in mind." Said Mo De.
"What will that be, father?" Asked Mo Fang.
Mo De stood up and turned around to peer at his sect from his office window.
"The Lion made it clear that this whole thing is meant to be a fierce competition between all humans. An event like this, with all practitioners joining from across Vicia, will be an opportunity that may never repeat itself—a chance to identify hidden nobles. The fiercer the fight, the easier it will be for them to stand out even if they don't reveal their nobility outright. My mistake with Count Cai can't be allowed to be repeated."
"If you are that regretful regarding not knowing about Count Cai nobility until it was too late, why not just overwhelm him with our sect elders?" Questioned Mo Fang.
"It is not that simple, son. Brute force is useless when finesse is required. How many of our elders will fall if we push the Count into a corner? Furthermore, if we blatantly go after him now, the number of required elders to put him down will give away our intentions to the rest of the Holy Lands. They will want a piece of him too, and there is only one Count to go around. We can't allow a conflict of interest to ignite between the four sects in our Holy Lands.
This is what is stopping them from taking actions themselves, too. We have plans that have been in the making for over fifty years now. Once we have seen them through, then I will no longer care about our current unity, and we can plan accordingly. Count Cai days are numbered, we just have to be patient and avoid a direct confrontation with him." Revealed Mo De.
"Thank you for your guidance, father."
"Good, so long you are paying attention. Now there is another matter I have for you and your sister: Prince Fan Jin's son, Fan Shi. A talented little monster will be joining us when we enter these portals. He will be your and your sister's responsibility. No harm may come his way, and you are not to start any conflict with him." Commanded Mo De.
"I have met him before. How come he is not going with his sect?" Queried Mo Fang.
"Because his father, the Prince of our continent, won't stay put unless he is assured that he won't get scammed out from what we will gain from our supposed ancestors' legacies." Said Mo De.
"Father...these legacies might be the greatest fortune in our world why would you imply you are willing to share them with anyone, an outsider even."
Mo De looked back at his son. "Why, indeed."